


Adventures in Suburbia

by metchaky



Category: Inception (2010), Modern Family (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Kink Meme, M/M, Meet the Family, On Hiatus, Rating subject to change, WIP, canon!verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metchaky/pseuds/metchaky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[kinkmeme prompt]:<br/>Arthur’s last name is Dunphy. He takes Eames along with him on a visit to his big brother’s house so that he can meet the family.</p><p><b>[UPDATE: Feb. 5th, 2014]</b><br/>This work is going on hiatus as I do rewrites. Will not begin to post new chapters until the entire work is completed. (read ch.06 for details)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/20822.html?thread=50215254#t50215254
> 
> Will probably be Arthur/Eames-centric and I'm hoping that even non-Modern Family watchers will be able to read it with little confusion. You might want to take a look at cast photos though because I probably won't be spending much time on physical descriptions.
> 
> I'll also be trying to avoid major spoilers for the mot recent seasons and will be taking liberties with the Modern Family time/storyline.

Eames turned onto his side as a soft tritone ringing filled the air. “Not mine,” he mumbled against the cool skin of Arthur’s exposed shoulder.

Arthur sighed and propped himself up on one elbow, blinking blearily into the dark room. He listened to the trilling phone for another second before tensing and exhaling a quiet, “Fuck, that’s mine.”

Eames rolled into the warm spot Arthur had vacated and breathed in the still-fresh scent of laundry and shampoo. “You’re sure? That doesn’t much sound like your mobile either.”

“Personal cell,” Arthur grunted from the other side of the room. There was a moment of silence as the ringing cut-off and Arthur answered, sounding more composed than Eames could ever hope to muster so soon after being asleep, with a steady “Hello?”

Arthur rolled his eyes when he noticed his spot had been taken and climbed into Eames’ side of the bed, pulling the covers up over his bare legs as a young female voice buzzed audibly in the silence of the room.

 **[** Heeey, Uncle Arthur! It’s, um, Alex? It’s been a while so I don’t know if you really remember... I’m your niece? **]**

Eames perked up from where he had started pressing idle kisses against the jut of Arthur’s hipbone.

“Alex, no, god, of _course_ I remember you. How’ve you been? Everything alright with the family?” And Eames might be the actor, but Arthur was the multi-tasker. It was almost admirable, the way his casual voice belied the serious furrow of his brow as he flipped on the lamp and pulled his laptop from the bedside table, flights to LA already filling the screen.

 **[** Oh, yeah, no, everything’s great. I was just- okay, so... I have this school assignment where I’m supposed to interview a family member about their life. Like, growing up, their career, and any struggles they faced. And I see my mom’s side of the family almost everyday so it would almost feel like cheating if I did it on one of them, so I thought maybe you...? **]**

By this point Eames had sidled up next to Arthur (with grudging permission), their heads tilted together over the phone.

“That’s... really flattering, Alex. I’m not entirely certain that I’ll be a much better study though.”

 **[** Oh, god, you’re probably really busy so, um, sorry for bothering you. **]**

Arthur ran a hand through his hair in a rare show of fluster, “No, hey, I’d love to help. Just let me know what I can do.”

 **[** Really? Thank youthankyou, you’re the best uncle ever. I can email you the prompt and- **]**

 **[** Alex! **]** Arthur pursed his lips as an older female voice popped up in the background. **[** If that’s your Uncle Cam, can you tell him that I’m going to need my electric mixer back? **]**

 **[** No, Mom, it’s not Uncle Cam. **]**

 **[** _Ooookay_ , well then, can you just ask your Uncle Mitchell to tell him seeing as how they live in the same house? **]**

 **[** _No_ , because it’s Uncle _Arthur_. **]**

There was a clash of dishes and the sound of sloshing water.

 **[** Why... _why_ are you on the phone with your Uncle Arthur? **]**

Eames quirked an eyebrow towards Arthur at the undercurrent of fear in her tone, but was distracted by the look of utter fondness that flashed across Arthur’s face as a deeper voice joined the conversation.

 **[** Did someone say Arthur? _My_ Arthur, Arthur? **]**

 **[** Yes, Phil. For some reason our daughter is on the phone with your brother. Would you happen to have any idea why? **]**

 **[** No way, I haven’t spoken to my little brother in forever! Alex, put him on speaker. Arthur! **]**

“Phil, hey, it’s been awhile.” The softest smile stayed on Arthur’s face and Eames gave in to an impulse, pressing a small kiss to the corner of the upturned lips.

Arthur swatted at his face.

 **[** Uncle Arthur was just agreeing to help me with my assignment. **]**

 **[** That’s great news! And, hey, it’s almost Thanksgiving, you should come and spend it with us. **]**

 **[** Phil, don’t you think it’s a little... rude to invite him with only a week’s heads-up? I mean, I’m sure your brother already has other plans. **]**

 **[** Are you kidding me, Claire? Arthur would completely skip _Christmas_ if I didn’t leave him twelve days of Christmas carol voicemails every year. Right, lil’ bro? **]**

Eames’ face lit up in glee as he mouthed _’twelve days of Christmas carols’_. Arthur flipped him off, but didn’t attempt to move the phone out of his hearing. “I don’t know Phil, I’ve already made plans with someone,” he lied, “and anyways, I don’t think your wife would appreciate having to accommodate an extra mouth on such short notice.”

 **[** Nah, Claire loves having family over. And if you made plans with someone, then bring them too. The more the merrier! Isn’t that right, honey? **]** There was a telltale moment of silence where Arthur pictured how his sister-in-law’s face would pinch together, the way it always did when her careful plans were hijacked. **[** Okay, so you can’t see it, but she’s definitely making her ‘I love surprises!’ face, right now. **]**

“I’m sure. Look, Phi-”

 **[** Come _on_ Arthur. I could really use a bit of Dunphy representation around here for once. **]**

“I just...”

 **[** I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. **]**

“You’re not selling me a house, Philip.”

 **[** Doth I hear a ‘yes’? **]**

Arthur sighed, “Put me down for a plus one.”

 **[** Okay! I expect you to get here early and now I’m going to hang-up so you can’t change your mind. **]** There was a burst of staticky cheering and a loud **[** The Dunphy Boys are gonna show everyone how it’s **DONE** **]** before the line went dead.

Arthur let the phone drop to the bed and pointedly did not look at Eames while clicking through the flights from Heathrow to LAX.

Eames decided to take the initiative and tucked his chin onto Arthur’s shoulder. “ _Dar_ ling, am I to presume that your plus one is me?”

Arthur drew Eames’ attention to a flight leaving the day after. “It’d be more accurate to say that you’ll be accompanying me as my stress ball.”

Eames nodded his approval of the flight. He snaked an arm around Arthur’s waist in order to reach the keyboard and entered in his passport information of the moment. “Your brother can’t possibly be bad enough to drain the Great Arthur’s Well of Patience.”

“My brother is fine on his own, but throw in his in-laws and I’d be tempted to drop _myself_ into limbo.”

Eames carefully moved the laptop onto the nightstand and tugged Arthur back under the covers. “Then let’s make the most of our final moments before we plunge into the depths of American suburbia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be a lag between updating the kinkmeme and posting here because I plan on actually editing before ao3.
> 
> That being said: if anyone is interested in beta-ing I'd much appreciate it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we meet more family members, I'm going to try very hard to find a balance between Modern Family's penchant for humorous cliches (that usually backfire) and my terror of possibly offending people. If anything makes anyone uncomfortable, do let me know and I'll try to adjust.

“It’s thirty degrees here and you were going to spend the hols being damp in London?”

Arthur pulled on his sunglasses as they stepped into the sun of the arrivals pick-up area. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he tugged off his coat, “it’s barely seventy-five out here.”

As they double-checked their luggage, a minivan rolled up to the curb and a dark-haired man rolled down the window to wave. “At last my liege, King Arthur, has arriveth!”

Eames leaned in towards Arthur and whispered, “Does that make me Guinevere?”

Arthur quipped back, “More like my manservant,” before he strode forward to greet his brother with a tight hug. “Phil, I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to come back and visit,” he stepped back, “you’re looking great.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know that being an International Man of Mystery keeps you busy.” Phil kept an arm around his shoulders while he reached out to shake Eames’ hand. “And you must be his Lady Guinevere.”

Eames grinned vaingloriously at Arthur while happily returning the handshaking, “That I am, but I must insist that you address me by my maiden name: Eames.”

Phil’s eyes and smile widened with the delight of being humored, “I’ve always wanted to have a proper Englishman in the family.” He tilted his head towards Arthur and added in a stage whisper, “I think this one might be a keeper.”

“Really?” Arthur shrugged away from his brother’s arm, laughing, “your first impression of Eames is ‘proper Englishman’?”

Before anyone could retort, there was a thump and a muffled "Uhhhh... Daaad?"

The three men turned towards the van's now open hatchback. A young boy with a curly head of hair was on the floor, wriggling under Arthur and Eames' suitcases.

Eames lifted the luggage off the child as Phil rushed forward.

"Luke, you okay?"

Luke stood, brushing himself off. "Yeah, I'm good."

" _Luke_?" Arthur gaped, "You've definitely grown."

"Yeah," Luke nodded, "definitely more than Manny."

Arthur nodded along and bent down to hug his nephew. "Manny. Right. He's your... mom's step-brother?"

Eames hid a smirk at the lack of certainty in Arthur's tone. He knew full-well that the point man practically had a dossier on each member of his brother's extended family. If people were intimidated by Arthur’s network and ability to track information down in the world of dreamsharing, they’d be downright terrified if they ever knew the thoroughness with which he stayed abreast of his family members’ lives.

"We go to the same school, but he's a lot shorter than me." Luke looked curiously at Eames, "Who's this guy?"

Phil put his son on his shoulder, "This is Eames, your Uncle Arthur's boyfriend."

Eames straightened up from where he had been arranging their luggage in the back of the van and offered his hand in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you, Luke."

Luke gave his hand a firm shake before a nearby security guard tapped his watch and told them to get moving.

Once they were on the road the van filled with inane chatter about Luke's school and the state of the housing market, traffic report buzzing in the background.

Arthur set his head against the passenger-side window and drifted off to sleep.

&.&.&.

Eames stared, fascinated, at a photo of a mud splattered family that hung in the foyer. He recognized Arthur’s brother and nephew and supposed that he’d be acquainted with the remaining nine. He opened his mouth to comment and Arthur preemptively interrupted him in a low voice.

“If you could possibly restrain yourself from using everything you see as fodder for your propensity to psychoanalyze everyone, it’d be much appreciated.”

Eames arched an eyebrow, “I was only going to praise you for having a family full of such wildly attractive people.”

Phil stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back to look gratefully at Eames, “We _are_ an attractive bunch, aren’t we. Thank you, Eames.” He then leaned over the bannister and yelled, “CLAIR! GIRLS! COME AND MEET YOUR UNCLE’S BOYFRIEND.” As an afterthought he added, “Also, say hi to your uncle,” before proceeding to lug the suitcases up the stairs, Luke trailing after him.

An apron-clad woman with blond hair appeared at the open arch leading into the living room with two dark-haired girls hovering behind her. “I’m glad you guys made it safely,” she said through a strained smile, “Gosh, it’s been so long Arthur.”

“Claire, it’s lovely to see you. As always.”

They greeted each other with a hug that was only semi-awkward before a brunette with glasses stepped forward with a large smile. “Uncle Arthur! I’m so glad you’re here, though I’m also really sorry for getting you dragged into the freakshow that is our family holidays.”

Arthur returned her smile, “No, apologies necessary. In fact, thank you, Alex. I’ve been long overdue for a visit and I’d probably never have gotten around to it for at least another decade otherwise.”

The final girl had a smile playing on her lips and one hand on her hips. “Honestly, I don’t even know why you bothered. You’re free now. If I were you I’d have stayed as far away as possible.”

“I promise you, Haley. One more year at college and you’ll be begging for your mother’s home-cooked meals.” Arthur paused to take in the two girls standing in front of him and exhaled slowly. “Alex is in high school and Haley’s in college,” he said mostly to himself (in a tone that Eames thought sounded suspiciously like regret).

The three came together in a hug, after which Arthur gestured behind himself. “This is Eames. Eames, this is my sister-in-law, Claire, and her daughters, Haley and Alex.”

Eames smiled and offered another round of seemingly endless handshakes. “It’s an honor. And I do apologize for the imposition.”

Haley bit her lip and pulled out her phone, fingers flying over the screen.

“Oh, no, not an imposition at all,” Claire responded politely, “we’re happy to have you. Now, girls, how about you show your Uncle Arthur and Eames up to their room and then come back down and help me finish making dinner, okay?”

Haley slipped past them and quickly made her way up the stairs, phone at her ear, “I _swear_! He sounds just like Colin Farrell.”

Alex ran up after her, “Seriously, Haley? Colin Farrell is _IRISH_!”

“Ah, youth.” Eames sighed happily.

Claire shook her head in disbelief, bringing her hand up to fist against her mouth. “The guest room is up the stairs and to the right.”

“Thanks, and sorry for the trouble, Clair,” Arthur sympathized.

“Really, not trouble. No. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Arthur and Eames made their way up the stairs and quickly found their luggage sitting in a cozily decorated bedroom. Phil and Luke’s voices were muffled behind a door across the hall and became nearly inaudible once Arthur closed the guestroom door behind him.

"Arthur,” Eames crooned, “ _Arthur_ you come from a family full of people who would dress up in nice white clothes only to have _a mud fight_."

Arthur pushed past him and sat at the edge of the queen-sized bed, tugging off his shoes. “I’m only related to half of the people that were in that photo. They’re _Phil’s_ family.”

Eames rolled his eyes and flopped onto the bed behind him, patting the mattress in invitation, “Come, let’s nap away the jet lag.”

“That’s not how jet lag works,” Arthur stifled a yawn, pulling out his laptop, “and anyways, we need to start preparing for our next job. There’s a chance we’re going to need multiple forgeries.”

“And this is absolutely necessary right now?”

“We probably won’t have any time during the day.”

“Well then,” Eames tugged at Arthur’s arm, collapsing him backwards onto the bed until his head was resting on Eames’ firm belly, “walk me through it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still looking for a beta/anyone familiar with Modern Family to bounce ideas off of. (I'm still relatively new to the world of fanfic writing so even a push towards how this process generally works would be much appreciated.)
> 
> Thank you all for the support~!


	3. Chapter 3

Luke cornered Alex the moment she opened the bathroom door, “What’s forging?”

“Ew, Luke. Were you standing out here the whole time?” She made a face, frowning and suspicious, “Why do you need to know about forging?”

“Why do you need to know why I need to know?” Luke shot back.

Alex rolled her eyes, but gave in, never really one to refuse answers to questions she knew. “Well, forging is about making stuff. Usually metal work? Like, you’d forge a sword or a shield.”

Luke nodded his head, thinking about what he had overheard when he’d gone to call his uncle and Eames down for dinner, “So, hypertheoretically, if someone had been talking about forging a person...”

“I think you meant ‘hypothetically’, and, what, like forging a suit of armor?”

Luke’s head swiveled to look up at Arthur, who had just appeared at the top of the stairs, and his eyes went wide while muttering in near reverence, “Or a _robot_.” He backed away slowly and then spun around, darting into the living room as Haley came in through the front door.

Alex’s face scrunched up in confusion and she looked to her uncle for support. “I swear, you and I are the only normal people in this family.”

“Hah,” Haley scoffed, “ _Normal_? I’m sorry, but how many parties have you **not** gone to because you were too busy,” and here she curled her fingers in imitation of quotation marks, “‘studying’?”

Arthur and Eames half-followed half-herded the bickering girls through the living room and towards the dining table where Phil and Claire were setting out chicken alfredo and garlic bread.

“And anyways,” Haley continued as she slipped into her seat at the table, chin held high and smirk on her face, “I bet Uncle Arthur was one of the popular kids.” She looked ahead to where said uncle was taking a seat across from her. “You were probably even voted class president, weren’t you?”

Alex looked at her sister in disgust as she sat next to her, taking the seat across from Eames, “Student council is a responsibility, not a popularity contest.”

“Oh, really, Alex? Is that why Mackenzie won? Because she’s _so responsible_?’’

Alex gaped and muttered a nearly inaudible, “Oh my god, that explains so much.”

“Quiet down, girls,” Phil said as he took a seat at one end of the table.

Claire, sitting at the other end, nodded sharply, “That’s right, listen to your father, Haley, Alex, it’s rude to-.”

“Your Uncle Arthur may not have been elected president,” Phil interrupted, “but he did go to prom with the guy who was.”

Arthur looked between father and daughters, aware that technically the conversation was about him, but unsure of whether or not he was actually expected to participate. He kept his face decidedly blank; it had been years since he’d been faced with a family dinner and concluded that the best course of action would be to take a moment to simply observe and re-familiarize himself with the setting.

That was, of course, the moment that Eames came to the opposite conclusion and opened his mouth to contribute, “I’m not surprised, actually. I’ve always said that Arthur was ‘the Michelle to my Barack’. He knows where true power lies.”

“You’ve always said that, _really_ ,” Arthur drawled.

Eames’ only response was to shoot him a sickly sweet smile.

“Yeah,” Phil smiled, “They even used to lock themselves away in his room for extra student council planning sessions. Arthur always was a busy worker bee...” he trailed off, lost in his memories.

“Um...” Haley tilted her head in suspicion, “exactly who were ‘they’?”

“Your uncle and Trent Shackleford, the student body... presi-” he slowly turned to look at his younger brother with a dawning horror of realization, “-dent.”

Arthur downed half the contents of his wineglass as his two nieces shrieked in stereo, “Uncle _Ar_ thur!”

Luke poured ketchup over his pasta, completely uninterested the drama affecting the rest of the table, but paying close attention to whether or not Arthur and Eames were actually ingesting food like normal human beings.

Haley pointed her fork at her dad, “You and Mom wouldn’t let me close the door when Dylan was over, but you were perfectly fine with your little brother _locking_ himself in his room with his boyfriend? You are such a _hypocrite_!”

Claire got up from the table and uncorked another bottle of wine.

Phil spluttered at his oldest daughter, “I didn’t... they weren’t even going out, prom was their first date.” He turned back to his brother, aghast, “Prom was your _first date_ , right?”

Arthur continued to eat his food calmly, refusing to acknowledge the flush heating the back of his neck nor the way Eames was biting his lip in an attempt to hide his laughter. “Prom was definitely the first time we went out on a date,” he answered carefully, avoiding his older brother’s eyes as he flashed back to an entire semester of sexual experimentation with--because Haley hadn’t been wrong--the most popular guy in school.

Phil didn’t look terribly convinced, but then, Arthur had always had crippling inability to lie when directly confronted by his only sibling.

“So, Arthur,” Claire said as she finally returned to her seat, a quarter of the wine bottle conspicuously gone, “Why don’t you tell us how you and Eames met?”

Arthur was grateful for the change in topic. So grateful, in fact, that he accidentally told the truth.

“We met a year after I graduated from West Point. We were on opposing teams, beta testing new tech.” Arthur didn’t mention the fact that those “opposing teams” were the U.S. military versus an organized group of thieves determined to acquire a PASIV. Eames hadn’t even experienced a shared dream at that point in his life. He had only been interested in the challenge of forging quality military ID cards and passports after the increased security that followed 9/11.

“Wow,” Alex murmured, “Dad never mentioned the fact that you went to West Point.” She perked up suddenly, “Wait, wait, let me grab my notebook, this would be perfect for my assignment,” and shot out of her chair and the room.

“Sooo,” Haley looked from her uncle to Eames, “you two have kind of been together for a while then.”

“We-” Arthur began, but then had a moment of clarity and complete understanding that he hadn’t experienced since Phil had married Claire and Arthur had married the world of dreaming. He snapped his gaze to his brother, knowing exactly how he’d misunderstand the situation, “No, Phil, Eames and I’ve known each other for a while, yes, but we weren’t in a... relationship until recently.”

“Like prom was your first date?”

Haley cringed and slipped out of her chair, tugging Luke along and intercepting a confused Alex at the stairs with a hissed, “Trust me, you don’t want to be in there right now.”

Arthur flinched, “Technically, with a given definition of ‘date’.”

Phil shook his head, pushing his chair back with a stony face, “I always thought we were Mary-Kate and Ashley.” His voice was accusing and dripping with disappointment and suddenly Arthur felt all of eight years old, “But apparently we’re not. Instead, turns out I’m Nancy Drew solving cases by myself while you’re off with the Hardy Boys.”

“Phil.” And Arthur knew he was more articulate than this. That there had been a time when they had been close. Inseparable. Arthur stood and faced his brother, “...we’re still Mary-Kate and Ashley.”

Phil shook his head once more, but pulled him in for a hug, “Not right now we’re not.” He pulled away, “Cam and Mitch are coming over early for the barbecue tomorrow and I still haven’t cleaned the grill. So I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

He said his “goodnight”s and headed up the stairs.

Eames cleared his throat, “Dinner was delicious, Claire, thank you.”

Claire took a swig of wine straight from the bottle before passing it over to Eames, “Welcome to the family.” Her eyes flickered towards Arthur, who was opening the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard.

Eames thought he saw a brief flash of smug victory on her face before she made a comment about how she’d tell the kids to come back and clean up because ‘really, Eames, don’t bother, you’re a guest’. So he joined Arthur where he was sitting on the steps leading from the back porch down to the grassy lawn and let out a slow exhale. “Well, that certainly could have gone worse.”

Arthur gave him a tired look, “Are you kidding me? Phil hasn’t been that upset with me since I told him that I’d been the one moving the planchette when we’d play with his ouija board.”

Eames shifted to the step above and behind Arthur, hands coming up to massage tense shoulders, “I know this has all been utterly humiliating for you, Mary-Kate, but if it’s any consolation, I had your family completely mischaracterized in my head. I’ve never been more pleased to be so wrong. Your brother is fascinating.”

“Not much of a consolation, actually,” Arthur sighed, head rolling forward as Eames’ thumbs pressed into the base of his skull. “And I was Ashley.

Eames chuckled, “Tomorrow we’ll get you back in the good graces of your darling big brother, but for now I’ll settle for the story behind why you and your sister-in-law don’t get along.” He felt Arthur stiffen beneath his fingers only to loosen a moment later.

“I may have gotten drunk at their engagement party and then cornered and threatened her.”

Eames let out a huff of laughter, “‘You hurt him, I hurt you’? How perfectly cliche.”

“Yes, well. At this point I’m just hoping to wake-up back in London and find that this night was just an anxiety-fuelled dream stemming from the fact that I haven’t called home in a while.”

“Don’t be daft,” Eames leaned in close to kiss the shell of an ear, “you know you can’t dream naturally.”

There was a crash behind them and they both twisted around to look, Arthur instinctively reaching for where he’d usually keep his gun.

Luke was standing with silverware scattered around him and a surprised ‘oh’ on his face, “Uhhh, sorry, _man_ , I’m just so clumsy, ha. Ha.” He quickly gathered up the utensils and beelined for his sister.

“Hey, Alex. Can computers dream naturally?”

Alex didn’t bother turning away from the sudsy sink water, yawning, “ _No_.”

Luke peered out the sliding doors to where it looked like Eames had resumed his inspection of the back of their Uncle Arthur’s head and neck. “No,” he murmured, “and robots probably can’t either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this chapter is a bit more ridiculous than I had planned it to be. This should really be titled 'adventures in attempting to write a comedy'


	4. Chapter 4

The sound and smell of sizzling bacon and sausages filled the air of the kitchen as Alex tapped away dutifully at her laptop.

“So, after graduating from a super military school you only spent a handful of-- highly classified-- years _actually in_ the military before leaving it for... corporate espionage?”

Arthur added sausage chunks to his pot of country gravy before checking on the biscuits in the oven and responding to Alex, “It’s ‘competitive intelligence’, legally, and ‘information broker’, specifically.”

“Okay, so what kind of information?”

“You know... patents.”

His niece looked at him with narrowed eyes, “ _Patents?_ You left the military for patents.”

Arthur shrugged, but threw her a small conspiratorial smile, “And _maybe_ a bit of corporate espionage.”

Alex looked about ready to burst with questions, but didn’t manage to ask any before her dad wandered in. “I hope I’m not interrupting an uncle-niece bonding session?” he said with all the expectation of someone hoping for the opposite.

“Just working on Alex’s assignment while I threw together some biscuits and gravy,” Arthur replied as he heaped some food into a dish and held it out.

“With a side of bacon?”

“With a side of bacon.”

Phil leaned forward and wrapped Arthur in a hug around the offered plates of food. “You’re the greatest brother I could ever have.”

“And you’re a lot more into hugging than I remember,” Arthur said, maneuvering the food onto the nearest counter behind Phil’s back before returning the hug.

Alex snatched a piece of bacon from the pan and shrugged, “It’s probably because he doesn’t get much affection from Mom’s side of the family.”

Phil joined Alex at the breakfast bar, “And where is your mother this lovely morning?”

“Off on her daily jog.” Alex dipped a biscuit in the gravy and turned back to her uncle, who was leaning against the sink with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, “Back to my assignment, where exactly have you traveled to and has it all been for the job?”

Phil sat back and watched his brother and daughter chat back and forth, only partially paying attention to the actual conversation. “You know, Alex, you’ve always reminded me a bit of your uncle Arthur,” he said, interrupting their flow of chatter without a second thought, “and, while I’ve got you both here, we should have a bit of quality dad-brother-uncle-niece-daughter bonding time." The two looked over at him as he continued. “I missed the chance to really sit down and talk about this with Haley, but last night’s conversation made me realize that it’s never too late to give The Talk.”

“Phil, I am actually an adult man in his thirties. Don’t you think-”

“Nope,” Phil shook his head, “safe sex isn’t something that just goes away as you get older.”

Arthur edged towards the nearest exit, “Alright, I can see that you’re trying to have a milestone conversation with your daughter so I’ll give you a bit of privacy.”

“Ohhhh no you don’t,” Alex threw her uncle a harried looked, “it was _your_ ‘after school special’ that started this whole thing.”

“Look,” Phil put up his hands in a placating gesture, “you’re my baby brother and you’re my baby girl and the thought of you guys having your own babies freaks me out a little.”

“My last boyfriend was gay,” Alex supplied.

“Gay man in his thirties,” Arthur reminded.

“All I’m saying is,” Phil started, placing one hand on his daughter’s shoulder and momentarily attempting to simultaneously reach his brother halfway across the room with his other hand before accepting it as futile, “you’re two of the most responsible people I know, but sex can be fun and recreational, believe me, I know-”

“-ew ew ew Dad, ew no please stop, this is traumatic.”

“-just be safe and smart about it. That’s all I ask.”

There was a moment of silence where they uncomfortably avoided each others eyes before the sharp ring of the doorbell shocked them back into motion.

“I’ll get that,” Arthur said, quickly slipping out of the room.

Alex pushed her food away, “I’m gonna go hide in my room and never look at you guys ever again.”

Phil pulled Alex’s plate of food closer to him, “And I’ll just finish this.”

Arthur reached the front door just as Eames started making his way down the stairs. “One of your nieces just flew by me. Eventful morning?”

“You’d be devastated to know what you missed,” he pulled open the door and came face-to-face with a red-headed man, beard neatly trimmed. “Ah, Mitchell,” he looked past Mitch and towards the larger man standing behind him, “and this must be Cam? Phil did mention the two of you’d be here early.”

Mitch sputtered for a moment, “Arthur! Hello, hi, okay. Neither Phil nor my sister mentioned you were visiting. What a nice surprise!”

“ _Honey_ ,” Cam nudged his partner, “why don’t you introduce me to the attractive stranger?”

“Right, Arthur this is my partner, Cameron. Cameron this is Phil’s brother, Arthur. And this is our daughter...” Mitch started looking around slightly frantic, “Cam, where’s Lily?”

Cam’s voice heightened in pitch. “She was standing next to me a moment ago, LILY.”

Arthur prided himself on the fact that he didn’t jump when a young girl’s voice came from right behind him, “I’m right here. You loosey gooseys need to calm down.”

Mitch looked torn between fluster and relief, “How did you get in there?”

“‘Loosey gooseys’?” Cam muttered, “she’s definitely picking that up from Gloria.”

The little girl, dressed in layers of highlighter bright colors, rolled her eyes and spun around, letting out an exasperated, “The back gate was open, geez,” before taking off to another part of the house.

Eames stuck his head out from behind the open door that had blocked him in at the foot of the stairs and said, sincerely, “Well, isn’t she just a delightful little one.”

Both Cam and Mitch immediately flicked their attention over to the new presence.

Mitch made an effort to not oggle too obviously, “And who might this be?”

“I’m Arthur’s plus one, it’s a pleasure.”

“Accent’s a bit lackluster,” Cam said under his breath, much less subtle in his onceover, “but I think that can be forgiven.”

Mitch quickly turned to Cam, “No, please don’t. Your British accent is-”

Cam steamed right over the pre-emptive protest with a loud and roughish accent, “Off on ‘oliday are we? Me finks you made a jolly good choice in comin’ ‘ere.”

It had been a long time since Arthur had heard anyone criticize the forger’s ability to pull on a persona, accent and all. That he was being called out now, and because of his natural accent no less, sent a grin splitting across Arthur’s face despite his best efforts to stop it.

Eames took it in stride, as he always did, “I get that quite a lot, actually. My accent’s a bit of a mutt, I do admit.” He fully stepped out from behind the door, pressing close to Arthur’s back as he stepped aside to finally let their guests into the foyer. “But you, Cameron, sound like a proper court jester.”

Mitchell’s face pinched into a pained smile that Arthur recognized as similar to Claire’s and Cam tilted his head, mouth hanging open just the slightest bit. “You think I sound like a court jester?”

Eames exchanged a look with Arthur, “I did, yes. Though my apologies if-”

“No, no, I’m _honored_. I went to clown college and to have a proper Englishman tell me that I sound like a court jester?” Cam covered his mouth with a hand and made what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “Honored.”

“Clown college,” Eames repeated.

“Clown college,” Mitch confirmed, resigned. “I’m gonna go put this stuff out by the grill,” he gestured to the bags sitting at their feet that Arthur hadn’t paid much attention to, “and, Cam? I think maybe you should check on our daughter. She’s been pulling that disappearing act more and more lately.”

“Yeah, just,” Cam gave both Arthur and Eames a final lingering look, “okay, we can go.”

Arthur watched as the two men shuffled into the next room. Eames pressed a kiss to his cheek mumbling a cheerful, “ _Clown college_ can you imagine? And it’s only just the start of Day Two.”

“ _’Proper Englishman’_ -my-fucking-ass,” Arthur turned around and pulled Eames in for a biting kiss, half-frustration and half-gratitude for his presence.

“Oh my god, _seriously_ Uncle Arthur?” Arthur pulled away and looked up to where Alex was standing at the second floor railing, “You are on your own if my dad decides to give another impromptu sex-ed talk.” She stormed towards the bathroom, towel hanging off her arm.

Eames gave him a blithely baffled look, “You’re going to need to explain that.”

“No, I really don’t think I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty surprised by the support I'm getting for this. I realize most people don't bother with crossovers, but I truly do appreciate it.  
> I'm really depending on you guys to let me know if I start going overboard with the characters/humor. I welcome and appreciate any critique, so please feel free~


	5. Chapter 5

Mitch sat across from Cam at the Dunphy’s dinner table, the makings of a massive salad spread before them.

“So... Phil’s brother, huh,” Cam said as he tore at a head of lettuce, “Who saw that one coming? I mean, other than you because apparently you’ve been keeping your brother-in-law’s gorgeous brother a secret.”

Claire set down a couple bottles of olive oil and vinegar before taking the seat next to her brother. “Really? You think Arthur’s...” she made a vague hand gesture and frowned.

Both Cam and Mitch looked at her a bit perplexed before Mitch nodded slowly, “Yeah, we think he’s a bit...” before mimicking her odd flailing gesture. He picked up a knife and began cutting up carrots before continuing, “And don’t act all surprised. I mean, you’re the one who married his brother so you it’s not like you’re opposed to his look _genetically_ or anything.”

Claire narrowed her eyes in suspicion, “But you’ve met Arthur before and I don’t remember you going all doe-eyed for him back then.”

Mitch sat up straight, lifted his chin, and shrugged in one fluid motion. “I didn’t mention anything because, y’know. We might’ve had a bit of a history.”

Claire and Cam looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“There’s no way you _had a thing_ with my husband’s brother without my knowing about it.”

“Contrary to your personal belief, you’re not all-knowing _Claire_." Mitch smiled at her, smug, “Arthur and I both happened to be visiting our respective siblings and there was a party and it was college and we might have...” he trailed off with a demure little shrug and smiled at the carrots.

Cam stared, mouth hanging slightly open as Claire leaned towards Mitch, hissing out a quiet, “you did _not_ sleep with Arthur.”

Her brother frowned in confusion and scooted his chair away from her. “What? _No_ , we just made out a little.”

Cam smirked and resumed his lettuce work, “Well, that certainly makes more sense.”

“And what does _that_ mean?”

“It’s just that you don’t really seem his type. I mean, take a look at that Eames, it’s obvious that Arthur prefers a little meat on his bones.”

“Ohhh, okay we’re doing **this** again,” Mitch rolled his eyes and looked at Claire, “who do you think Arthur would rather sleep with: me or Mr-Meat-On-His-Bones-Cam? Which, by the way,” he turned back to his boyfriend with a raised finger, “I’m pretty sure the ‘m’-word you were looking for was ‘muscle’ not ‘meat’.”

Cam gasped, a scandalized look on his face, “ _Excuse me?_ Do I have to remind you that I was starting center for the Fighting Illini? That’s an NCAA Division I-A team. So yes, Claire, drunken make-outs aside,” he looked pointedly at Mitch, “do you think Arthur would rather have a sunburnt lawyer or someone with a college football player’s physique?”

“Nope, nope, nope,” Claire shook her head and started shredding parsley leaves, “I know how this ends so I am going to...” she pinched her thumb and index finger together, sliding them across her lips in a zipping motion before miming throwing away an invisible key.

There was a low chuckle and the three turned to find Eames standing at the open back door with a small cooler in hand and an amused grin on his face. “If I might provide a bit of insight,” he stepped inside and made a show of appraising first Cam and then Mitch, “our darling Arthur has historically shown a preference for more, shall we say, _solid_ men, but he’s also been known to sink to deplorable depths for someone with a good bit of scruff.” There was only a brief moment of silence in which a bright red flush of embarrassment made its way up the faces of the Dunphy-Tucker-Pritchetts at the table before the sound of Phil and Arthur’s laughter drifted in from the backyard. Eames glanced outside before shutting the door behind him with a shrug, sighing, “But then, what would I know? Tossed aside in favor of barbecue sauce and grilling techniques, can you believe?”

There was another moment of silence until Cam spoke up and said, “In case it helps with the sting of neglect, I just want you to know that the only reason we weren’t discussing _you_ is because, well,” he arched his brows, “there are children present.”

Claire and Eames broke out laughing as Mitch spluttered a horrified, “OH my **god** , Cameron. _Really?_ ”

Cam shrugged and started throwing the bits of salad into a large bowl, “Tell me I’m wrong, Mitchell.”

“The kids aren’t even here,” Claire added helpfully, “I sent them off to pick up Manny and some soda.”

“Lily’s still running around,” Cam pointed out.

Eames, in an attempt to diffuse the miasma of embarrassment hanging over Mitch, set the mini icebox in his hand onto the table and pulled out several beers and wine coolers.

Claire gestured for Eames to take a seat before reaching for a beer thankfully. She took a swig and then peered at the label, “this isn’t what we usually buy, but I think we might have to start.”

“Ah, no,” Eames passed a beer over to Cam, “This would be _my_ contribution for the day’s festivities.”

Claire side-eyed him knowingly, “This is one of those stereotypical _‘I’m British so I’m too good for your American swill’_ things, isn’t it?”

Mitch twisted the cap off of his wine cooler and looked at Eames apologetically, “I swear, despite all evidence to the contrary, some Americans _do_ possess the ability to keep their obnoxious attempts at mimicking accents to themselves.”

“I don’t remember you saying that when we were watching _Bridget Jones’s Diary_ last week,” Cam muttered.

Eames ignored Mitch’s indignant retort and turned his attention back to Claire and the beer in their hands, “While I won’t argue that we may have a bit of pride in our pint, this,” he tapped his bottle against the hard plastic of the cooler, “is actually an exhibition of _Arthur’s_ preference for microbrews.”

“Arthur.”

“Mmmhm,” Eames hummed in agreement.

“I mean, _Arthur?_ It’s just...” He watched as Claire opened her mouth, shut it, propped her chin on her hand, and tried again, “why are you even with him? I don’t mean...” she took a long pull from her bottle and waved a hand at Eames’ face, “you’re just so nice and charismatic and _friendly_.”

Eames let out a soft laugh, “Arthur is all of those things if you remember to look through glasses tinted with a bit of overprotection.” He absently ran his thumb nail down the beer’s paper label soaked with condensation, “But I guess that might be a bit difficult to see around his buttoned up exterior and overwhelming need for preparedness.”

Cam snorted, “Are you sure you’re not describing Claire?”

Mitch’s mouth hung open and his eyes widened as a thought clicked into place, “Phil and Arthur married _eachother_!”

“ _What?_ ” Claire stared at her brother in confusion.

“No, no, hold on I’ve got it,” Mitch made a rolling motion with his hands as a grin stretched across his face, “Phil’s got that warm approachable personality like Eames while Arthur gives off that cold air of ‘control freak’ like Claire, except more attractively.”

“Wow, thanks,” Claire groused as Cam nodded in agreement.

“That might actually make sense,” Eames thought aloud, “in an oversimplified Freudian sort of way.”

Claire stubbornly shook her head, “I don’t see it.”

“You don’t want to see it because you don’t like Arthur,” Eames quickly put his hand up before Claire could interrupt, “ _understandably_ so. You’re in-laws with protective streaks and Arthur can be terrifying, I know. But he’s also lovely and clever and deserving of a second chance.” As an afterthought he added with a wink, “Not to mention devastatingly attractive.”

Before Claire could decide whether she was flattered or still opposed to the comparison, the front door opened and a booming voice said, “We’re only staying for an hour so don’t let Gloria get too comfortable.”

It was followed by an accented, “Why you don’t want to spend more time with your family, Jay? It’s almost Thanksgiving that’s disrespectful.”

“Exactly! It’s _almost_ Thanksgiving. I don’t need to spend time eating with my family the days before a holiday where the whole point is to eat with your family. In fact,” a large white man entered the room with a curvy Latina woman with gift bags in her hand frowning at his side, “I think that eating with family before Thanksgiving just lessens the impact. So how about this, Gloria, we start a new tradition where we’re not allowed to spend _any_ time with family the week leading up to Thanksgiving. You know, to show proper _respect_ for the holiday.”

Gloria looked up at her husband, unimpressed, “Yeah, Jay, let’s start today. And since _we_ ,” she waved a finger between them, “ are family, _I_ will stay in the house and _you_ will stay **not** in the house.” She turned around, smug, and smiled at the group now standing around the salad table. Gloria gave a round of hugs to her family in greeting before holding a manicured hand out to Eames, “I think we have not met? I’m Gloria and this is my husband, Jay.”

Eames brushed a kiss against her knuckles and nodded politely at the man behind her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Eames and I’m here with Phil’s brother, Arthur, who’s currently working the grill with said brother.”

Jay let out a heavy sigh, “Oh Christ, I better get out there before they destroy the food.”

The back door slid open before Jay could reach it and everyone turned to look as Arthur stepped inside. Arthur gave the occupants of the room a cursory glance before zeroing on Eames.

He noted the tightness around Arthur’s eyes, the stiff shoulders, and pursed lips. “Arthur?”

“My totem.”

Eames instinctively pulled out his own, fingers running over familiar grooves and etchings. Not a dream.

Claire cleared her throat, “Um?”

Eames flashed everyone a reassuring smile, “Nothing to worry yourselves over, it seems that Arthur’s misplaced an important personal... keepsake. We’ll just have a bit of a look around, if you don’t mind?” He walked forward and stood by Arthur, placing a steady hand against the base of his spine.

Arthur turned his head the slightest bit towards Eames before murmuring a barely audible, “It was in my pocket and now it’s not.” His eyes flicked around the room as he mentally went through every step of his day.

He tried not to think about the fact that this was the worst setting. Arthur rarely ever visited his family and now he was suddenly surrounded by half-strangers with the L.A. sun shining at his back after months of London gray and--

Eames knew it would be all too easy for Arthur to rationalize everything into a dream. Especially when the shitstorm of Mal and Dom was still fresh. Would probably always be too fresh.

“Ohhhh no, **LILY!** ” Eames and Arthur both snapped their attention to Mitch, who was looking accusingly at Cam. “I told you it was going to cause issues.”

Cam pouted, “we don’t even know if Lily’s the one who took it.”

“Just like we didn’t know if Lily was the one biting other children? It’s _always_ Lily. When is it _not_ Lily?”

Arthur and Eames stood, confused, as the Dunphy and Pritchetts gave each other a bored look lacking any surprise.

Gloria put a hand on her hip and tapped a finger against her temple, “I am the one who will handle this.” She handed Arthur one of her gift bags and let out a surprisingly loud, “LILYYY LOOK WHO HAS A NEW DRESS FOR YOU.”

There was a giggle and flash of color as Lily jumped out from where she had apparently been hiding behind the couch, “You found me!” She smiled and waved her hands, red die clutched in one fist.

Arthur was immediately in motion, kneeling down in front of the little girl. “Hey there, you wanna trade?”

She looked suspiciously from the die to the gift bag being held before her. Lips pursed she nodded her head confidently, “Okay,” and dropped the die into Arthur’s open palm.

Arthur stood up and Cam scooped Lily off the floor as he apologized. “We are so sorry. She’s just gotten into this habit of stealing things and we don’t know where it’s coming from.”

Claire shot a side-long glance at Gloria and muttered under her breath, “Maybe it’s because people give her new dresses as a reward for returning the things she steals.” Gloria hadn’t heard her, but Mitch still elbowed his sister in her side.

“It’s perfectly fine,” Eames said as Arthur quietly checked his die on the dinner table, “but she’s certainly a clever little one to have pulled one over on Arthur.”

Arthur scowled at him, but the tension had visibly left from his shoulders. They’d still have to talk it over, make sure both their feet were firmly planted in reality, but for now: crisis averted.

“You guys into gambling?” Jay asked, pointedly looking from Arthur’s die to the poker chip still squeezed between Eames’ knuckles.

Arthur let out a little cough as he composed himself, “When given the occasion.”

“Well,” Jay threw an arm around his wife, “Gloria and I were just talking about how much we love having family over, _especially_ right before Thanksgiving, so why don’t you come over for Poker Night tomorrow?”

Gloria rolled her eyes, punched Jay’s arm, and then leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Arthur looked a bit perplexed by the exchange, but didn’t have a chance to reply before the back door slid open once more and Phil stuck his head in, “Hey, have any of you seen my sunglasses? I swear I had them on me a second ago.”

Cam threw his hands in the air in exasperation before shrieking, “ _LILY!_ ”

“Check the back of your pants,” Arthur and Claire said in unison.

“That’s right!” Phil reached behind him and pulled out his sunglasses, “Like I always say: belt loops aren’t only for belts. Thanks for the reminder, brother. And wife. Haha. Brother-wife. Browife. Brife.” Phil laughed to himself and went back outside with Jay and Gloria close behind.

Claire vacantly stared after them and whispered in horror, “Phil married me because I’m Arthur. I’m his brother-wife.”

Arthur looked from Claire to Eames before gripping his totem and rubbing a hand over his face. “This fucking family.”  



	6. Message from the Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is now officially on Hiatus as I do rewrites

Hey guys I feel really awful about this, but this story kind of got away from me in the year I haven't updated.  
I've got a lot of excuses regarding my life, but we're going to skip all that and:

I got back into fic writing this past winter and when I came back to "Adventures in Suburbia" I reread it and just cringed. I still really want to write this story and I've always known exactly where I wanted it to go, but I was woefully disorganized when I started writing this and I've decided to do a bit of a rewrite.

I also won't be posting the rewrite until the entire story (minus any timestamps) has been completed to avoid this sort of issue in the future.

Thanks so much for all the feedback. They're what reminded me how much I enjoyed writing this little crossover in the first place.

My biggest apologies for the delay & I hope some of you will still be interested by the time I'm done (I've got 3 months of absolutely no responsibility coming up so there a good chance you won't have to wait too long!).


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